The 18’ And the Street of Loners
Thence I was a teen;
17 and 11
hunchin' over 18,
can’t wait any longer for the tittle
ADULT.
The pressure seems faded
hence I realise it takes just jiffy
to be there.
Comes the long awaited day,
the day of my coronation,
not waiting for a god
to wear me a diadem
for my guts had.
Yeah' 18 is looking great on me.
I was told the gate is always open
for 18 and above,
really a place my kind
would wish to visit.
The solitary mission begins
as I wear my favourite garment,
walking down the street of loners.
It was so cold and cloudy
as solace rumbas the street.
No mobs
but every damn being
seems a mobster.
There, was a man,
on the right side
pouring out from a bottle
into a glass.
He waved me over
and sought that I should bear a taste.
Tastes wired,
and he named it: WHISKEY.
Kept walking,
on the left side
was a man smoking a blunt
from it’s joint,
he waved me over,
passed me a blunt
which kept me coughing
Tkoko Tkoko like a cat
in a poem during my nursery
and he said it was CANNABIS.
Still walking…,
on the right side again
was a stunning beautiful lady.
Great looks!
like a teen damigod,
tends to be more wired
than medusa,
well sculpt
to a perfectly curved hull.
She winks her charming bubble pupil
and whispered deep into my drum:
“You should feel thus
your lens hath captured”.
At this moment,
my legs
seem not letting the ground,
eyes and soul
wild open as I moped.
Knewing I was bewildered,
she grabbed on my cassava,
gave some head,
ride on me like a cowgirl
till I nut
the very last drop of my organism.
She made me enjoyed
a SWEET SIN.
“Now am feeling myself.
I smoked up
and the euphoric feeling
kept me dabbing,
drinked up
and the fumes
kept oozing,
fucked up
and the body dripping wet.
Am now deflowered,
not more a street virgin”
In a tic
a fly lost it’s way
by the wind.
I can see
and again no more.
The dark cloud
hath covered the face of the sky.
The deadly storm
befalls the earth in a horror.
The lightening- searching for what remains uknown to man.
The thunder- speaking in a godly language.
I can hear voices,
voices own by no human.
I can touch the walls- the walls I can’t see.
I can feel my favourite garment no more;
the wind hath undressed me.
My burden so heavy,
but was too dark
to see what befalls me.
Oh no,
I have lost it all.
In the battle of the gods
I lost my favourite garment.
Oh,
I lament ov’r thee
that hath brought tears
out of the blind eyes of me.
Oh,
why hath calamity chosen
to ride on a righteous road like me.
Oh,
my sick fate hath foretold me
a sick prophecy,
and made me believe
am a boy with a sweet virgina.
Oh,
my sick fate hath failed me
and the sick hope
keeps me hopeless.
My soul
on my left hand
waiting for a man
to lollop
with a case
filled with lollies.
With a grief,
I lolled my back
against a cold wall
in the 18 street of Loners.
With a flash of lightning
I saw a man,
his face like a gorgon,
walking towards me
with great pride
and dirty smiles
all over his face.
Allas!
I can hear
the angry voice of God
at the other street,
roaring like an angry lion.
O! My sins got him mad at me?
Can HE bear no more of it?
Oh,
hath my sins
weakened his Arch Angels
but strengthened Lucifer?
Oh my!
I hath been dicing with the Devil,
not knowing what it means
to be a jealous God.
O! The rest? A mystery.
~
© 2020, N. Odimgbe. All Rights Reserved.
